


One Hour

by Derin



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derin/pseuds/Derin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason, a voluntary Controller, rethinks his life and decisions</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Hour

Jason sat in the cafeteria, robotically feeding chip after chip into his mouth. One hour. He didn't have to look at the clock to know. He had to endure one more hour.

One hour of controlling his own limbs, of deciding whether to eat the next chip or not. One hour in the company of his fellow voluntaries, trying to focus on the movie playing before them to drown out the screams. Not fighting bought you little luxuries like that.

The thing was, he wasn't so sure it was worth it any more.

It had been nine months since his Katie had died, since he and Anastasia had sat by that hospital bed, holding each other, watching the little form that had so recently been their daughter. They couldn't afford counselling, not real counselling, not for all of them – they paid for their two remaining children, and struggled on as best they could. Anastasia had thrown herself into caring for her remaining family, but it was harder for Jason. Until a work colleague had introduced him to The Sharing.

He ate another chip. They were too salty. Must have a new guy making them. The new guys never got the salt right.

The thing was, though, Aless was a better father than he was. Jason had had trouble getting out of bed in the morning, but Aless got him up and ready for work and even helped Daniel and Anna with their homework on occasion. It was just for his cover, of course, but still... how pathetic was that? The space alien could look after Jason's kids better than he could?

Jason had let him. Why fight, when all he could do was mess everything up? Why bother to struggle? It's not like he could handle his own life anyway. His family deserved better. Aless had been a miracle.

But...

But Jason was beginning to have doubts. It had been months, and while Katie's absence was a ragged, freely bleeding wound in his soul, Daniel and Anna's smiles and hugs and kisses goodnight were still there, still real. Anastasia's smile was drawn and tired, but she smiled for him.

He stared at the chips in front of him. One hour. He had one hour to finish them, to get back to the pier, to let something else take his body and smile for his family and compliment Anastasia's cooking. And the one thing, the one thing he really dreaded, was the day his wife or one of his children would cry into his shoulder and say “I just can't handle it any more.” And the thing in his head would hug them with his arms and open his mouth and say, “I have friends that can help you. You should come to a Sharing meeting.”

A large hork-bajir guard walked past. Jason avoided making eye contact. The hork-bajir ignored him.

They could do it. They _would_ do it. There were forces out there fighting the yeerks, he knew; but would they turn the tide fast enough to save his family? Would they be able to defeat the yeerks before somebody collapsed, crying, onto his shoulder, and confessed that they had nowhere to turn? The yeerks had given his children a father, his wife a husband. They'd done that for him, and for that he was grateful. But that didn't mean that they weren't dangerous. It was all part of a trap. A trap to leave them prisoners in their own heads.

He probably deserved it. But they didn't.

It occurred to Jason that he was in a unique position. For one hour, his thoughts were his own, free, unmonitored. For one hour, he could think of rebellion, and eat his chips, and nobody would know.

Aless would know the second they were reunited. He'd know if Jason was a risk, if he needed to go to the cages next time. And he couldn't do anything from the cages. It achieved nothing but making his time at the pool worse. So he had one hour to decide, properly, permanently – cooperate, or rebel?

And if he was going to act, he had one hour to do it in.

Do what, though? Trying to make a run for the surface was a pipe dream. There were guards everywhere, security doors, and if he did get away... well, his home was the first place they'd go. They'd grab his family, in case he told them anything. He'd achieve nothing.

If he got out, he could call them. Warn them. Beg them to leave. (As he thought it, he knew he was committed to rebellion – already he'd pondered too much for Aless to let him run about on his own at the pool.) But they wouldn't understand, wouldn't listen, until it was too late.

Besides, he couldn't get access to a phone. He couldn't get out.

He had to make them leave. Get them safe. Somehow. And he had one hour to do it in.

He had to get them out, without drawing yeerk attention to them.

He had to start doing his job again, doing it properly. Get up in the morning. Smile. Care. Without some alien puppetmaster faking it for him. But most importantly, he needed to make them leave.

What message could he send, that would make them leave immediately without the yeerks finding out? What could he do that would raise no alarms, that Aless wouldn't read in his thoughts immediately after? What could he do that Aless wouldn't cover with a shrug and a smile as soon as he got back in control?e should have listened to her.

He needed to urge her to do that. Without Aless stopping him.

How long did he have? Less than one hour. But how much less? Fifty minutes? Thirty? Ten?

There were too many people around, too many to let him think. Jason headed for the bathroom. There was almost never anybody in the bathroom. He shut the door and leaned against it, avoiding his own reflection in the mirrors.

One of the taps was dripping. _Drip, drip, drip_.

There was a way.

After they'd lost Katie, something inside Jason had just given up. But Anastasia was stronger than he was. She'd thrown herself into looking after their remaining children. She'd wanted to get them away. When he'd wanted to stay, she instead did everything she could to keep them together, to keep their spirits up, even as pain crept across her face in lines and exhaustion darkened her eyes. She hadn't given up. She hadn't let herself.

If he was right, if he knew his wife as well as he thought he did... she'd do that again.

Jason made sure he was alone, then plugged up a sink with paper towel. He turned the tap on, drips quickening to a steady stream of water, and watched the sink fill. His plug wasn't perfect, but that was okay – he didn't need much. He wished he had something to jam the door with. But hardly anybody ever came into the bathroom anyway.

The water level rose. Nobody came in. Nobody stopped him.

Jason didn't know how long it took to drown. But he was sure it took significantly less than one hour.


End file.
